


Last Rites and Swan Songs

by squireofgeekdom



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One)
Genre: Atheism, Death, Drift and Ratchet's Space Roadtrip, Gen, Post-The Transformers: Drift - Empire of Stone, Pre-Transformers: More Than Meets the Eye Issue 51 (IDW), Talking about Delphi and Overlord, Vague discussions around suicidal ideation, basically neither of these two are good at taking care of each other or having healthy self worth, cybertronian religion, original character death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-20
Updated: 2017-09-20
Packaged: 2018-12-31 19:28:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,046
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12139467
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/squireofgeekdom/pseuds/squireofgeekdom
Summary: Drift and Ratchet have a conversation about religion and mortality, and say some things that need to be heard, after everything.





	Last Rites and Swan Songs

“Ratchet,” Drift says, “This one’s still alive,”

 

Ratchet immediately swivels around at the sound of Drift’s voice and jogs over. He kneels down to get a better view of the injuries, his hands gently ghosting over the small figure, occasionally cautiously prodding at the damage.

 

“Help me get him to the shuttle.” Ratchet says, frowning, “There’s nothing we can make that much worse by moving him, and he’ll have a better chance if I have more tools on hand.”

 

The small Cybertronian remains unconscious as they carry him to the shuttle, but he begins to stir as they set him down in the main bay.

 

“Get my med kit and an energon line.” Ratchet says, not even looking at Drift, his attention entirely on the wounded Cybertronian.

 

When he rushes back from Ratchet’s quarters, the little Cybertronian’s fully awake.

 

“Good. Get me a laser scalpel and help me hold him steady.”

 

The little Cybertronian’s crying. “I’m going to die, aren’t I?”

 

“Not if I can help it,” Ratchet growls, but his face looks grim. “Don’t try to move. Save your strength.”

 

“Please - if I’m going to die - just tell me - I have to -”

 

“What’s your name?” Drift asks.

 

“Crowbar,” He says, still hiccupping. “Best names are taken, right?”

 

“Shh.” Ratchet says, “Just save your strength.”

 

“It’s not good, is it?”

 

“I’ve seen worse.”

 

“Please, if I’m going to - if there’s a chance I’m not going to - you have to help me - I have to - I have to say the rites, I can’t go without them - please, when I’m gone you can have anything, just -”

 

“You’re not going anywhere yet.” Ratchet says, holding a laser torch in energon-stained hands. He looks at the kid. “You a Neo-Primalist?”

 

“Yeah - yeah.” Crowbar says, his breathing relaxing a little. “Please -”

 

“Alright. You gotta keep your voice down and stay _still_ , alright?”

 

“Right,” Crowbar says, coughing a little.

 

“Ratchet - “ Drift starts.

 

Ratchet pulls his hands out of Crowbar’s midsection with a final movement of the torch to weld shut a line. The plating around the wound is still torn open as Ratchet moves his gaze further up his midsection, to a wound further up his chassis. He holds his hands up. “Sterilizer.”

 

Drift blinks. “Right,” he says, holding up the device and sterilizing Ratchet’s hands.

 

Ratchet nods and dives back into his work, now on the higher wound. Crowbar’s breathing gets a little faster with Ratchet’s hands so close in view.

 

“Now,” Ratchet says, “You’ll have to start me off, I’m a bit rusty.”

 

Crowbar coughs, but starts the prayer. His breathing begins to slow down as he talks.

 

Ratchet joins him after a few words, eyes not moving from the wound, hands still flying.

 

Ratchet’s hands keep moving as he speaks in time with Crowbar, energon covering his hands in a matter of seconds. He can’t quite keep the deepening frown off his face, even as he continues to recite the words of the prayer.

 

Crowbar smiles, just barely, his face relaxing, when they finish the rite. Ratchet’s frown doesn’t change.

 

“Come on, stay with me,” He growls, half under his breath, reaching for another tool that Drift wordlessly hands him. “ _Come on.”_

 

Crowbar’s still smiling that same peaceful smile when the light flickers out of his optics.

 

Ratchet’s hands don’t stop moving until a few moments later, but when they do it’s with sudden finality. He ducks his head. “Dammit.”

 

“Ratchet -”

 

Ratchet pulls his hands out of the body. “Sterilizer.”

 

Wordlessly, Drift runs the sterilizer over Ratchet’s hands.

 

“We’ll have to find a place to - to dispose of his body.”

 

“We shouldn’t waste it.” Drift says. “He made an offer. We shouldn’t waste him.”

 

Ratchet frowns but doesn’t say anything immediately, looking around at the state of the cargo bay. “Alright. Whatever use you see - you see fit.” He stares down at the body, his hands closed into fists.

 

“You said his last rites.” Drift says. “That -”

 

“And now he’s dead.” Ratchet says, standing up and staring at the wall.

 

“It still meant something.”

 

“It didn’t _change_ anything.”

 

Drift just - waits, for a moment. “Why did you say it?”

 

“Because he was scared, and he needed someone to say it to make him less scared. Didn’t need to be Rung to figure that one out.” Ratchet sighs.

 

Drift considers. “I’m glad you said it,” He says, finally, “I haven’t been around Neo-Primalism much. I wouldn’t - I don’t know the words.”

 

Ratchet huffs. “I’ve failed enough in my time that I’ve gotten - _familiar_ with a number of funerary rites. Probably covering most of the Cybertronian pantheon, though I suppose there are probably a few minor sects I don’t know.”

 

“That’s -” The number of Cybertronian religions seems to stretch across the space between them, weighing down the air. “How do you do it?” Drift continues, finally. “You - you don’t believe there’s an Afterspark. How do you watch that many sparks go, that much - how do you do that and keep going?”

 

Ratchet - laughs, just a little, at that. “Because no one else is going to. When I - when I save someone’s life, when I don’t _fail -_ that’s me. No _god_ did that, just me. I don’t know how many I’ve saved, but it’s - it’s more than I’ve lost. And - and I see others who’ve devoted their lives to doing the same thing, to saving others - that’s what tells me we’re not all lost. And,” he adds, “Sometimes the people I save turn out to be you.”

 

“Ratchet, I -” Drift starts, hesitates. “After you - after you saved me, I - most of my life, more people died because of me than lived.”

 

“I don’t regret saving you,” Ratchet says, “I never did.”

 

“You probably had to save people _because_ of me. How do you - so many of us just _kill_ each other, and it never - ”

 

“Listen, kid,” Ratchet says, “There isn’t - we can’t go back and count up good and bad marks on a life and decide whether it was worth letting live. There isn’t a tally-board for this.” He sighs. “After - while you were gone, Brainstorm went back in time to try and kill Megatron, to stop the war. Don’t ask me for the full story yet, I’ll tell you, but I’m way too sober for it right now. What matters is - the temporary timeline that was created, if - if Megatron had been killed before he had come online, the Functionists would have taken over Cybertron. The war would never have happened, but people - more alt-modes would have been classified as ‘disposable’. People would have been killed for that. Many of them. It - that was hard.

 

“But it just - it goes to show that you can never know what the consequences of someone’s life are going to be. You just - you just have to look at people going forward. That’s all you can do. That’s all _anyone_ can do. Do the best with what you have, going forward. For me, that just means fixing the patient in front of me.”

 

“But you’re not,” Drift says. Ratchet looks at him sharply. “I don’t - I don’t mean _that_ ,” He says, looking at the body on the floor. “I mean - you didn’t have to come out here to rescue me. You have patients on the Lost Light. That - that’s important to you. You’re _Chief Medical Officer -_ ”

 

“Was. I handed the title over to First Aid.” Ratchet says. “Long past time, really.”

 

“Ratchet -”

 

Ratchet shrugs. “It came together well, really. First Aid was well past being ready to take my place, and I could go find you. Rodimus certainly wasn’t mounting up for a rescue mission, which would seem like the least he could do after ordering you to be his fall-guy. Though, to be fair,” Ratchet continues, not looking at Drift as he reaches for a siphon from his med kit to start cleaning the floor around the body,“I certainly feel better about turning the med bay over to First Aid than I would about him turning the ship over to Megatron -”

 

“Rodimus didn’t -” Drift stutters, and Ratchet looks up at him from where he had started to siphon energon off of the floor. “Rodimus didn’t order me to - Ratchet, I volunteered. The ship needed someone to take the blame and I - told Rodimus to let it be me.”

 

Ratchet blinks. “So when he told you -?”

 

“Told me what?” Drift tilts his head, confused.

 

“About Overlord. About how he brought him on board. You heard that and you wanted to -”

 

“Ratchet - I was there.” Drift says, staring at him, “When Prowl convinced him - I knew about Overlord the whole time. I helped persuade -” He shuts his mouth abruptly. “Rodimus - he really didn’t tell you? When you said he told the crew - ?”

 

“He said he’d been the one responsible for bringing Overlord onboard, and - and that was it, really. He said it was his fault.”

 

Drift’s shoulders slump, and he lets out a low, humorless laugh. “Of course he did.”

 

“Drift -” Ratchet starts, “Why - why would you _volunteer?_ It - whatever you knew, it was still Rodimus’s decision.”

 

“And Rodimus needs to be there. I _couldn’t_ let Rodimus take the fall because he _needs_ to be on that ship.”

 

“Why? Because _Primus_ told you in a vision? Or because -”

 

“ _Yes._ ” Drift grits out. “ _Yes._ I saw it.”

 

Ratchet lets the siphon clatter to the floor. “What is it about Primus that makes all of you so damn eager to throw away your lives? He -” he jabs his finger at the body on the floor, “ - he just went _smiling_ because he thought he’d get to the afterspark. And you, running out here -”

 

“Oh, like you can talk about running to throw your life away, like I wasn’t on Delphi too.” Drift snarls.

 

Ratchet stares at him, and then picks up the siphon and starts cleaning the floor again, avoiding looking at Drift. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. Whatever you thought about what happened on Delphi, it -”

 

“‘I’ve got nothing else left to lose.’” Drift quotes. “Sound familiar?”

 

“Oh please, like you’re going to throw what I said to _Pharma_ back at me?” Ratchet says, still focused on the floor. “We were standing on a roof and he had the only antiserum that could _fix_ any of you. I said what I thought I had to.”

 

“No, you didn’t.” Drift says. Ratchet sighs. “Ratchet. You didn’t.”

 

Ratchet pauses in his cleaning, still holding the siphon. “It’s not like there weren’t extenuating circumstances.” Ratchet says. “Pharma had gone - evil. My _hands_ weren’t working. I wasn’t - ” He shakes his head. “It doesn’t matter.”

 

“It does.” Drift says. Ratchet just shakes his head again.

 

Drift waits.

 

Then, when he can’t wait anymore, Drift asks - “What about now?”

 

“What _about_ now?” Ratchet says, returning to cleaning the floor.

 

“You’re not the CMO, you left your patients -” Drift says, “You left and - you came out here. The edge of nowhere. Beacon or no, you couldn’t have known you’d find me.”

 

“First Aid will do a fine job as CMO,” Ratchet says, still bent over, “Better than I’ve been doing lately.” He adds, with a jerk of his head to the body.

 

“Ratchet -” Drift says, and then sighs.

 

Finally, Ratchet runs out of floor to clean. He doesn’t let go of the siphon.

 

“Do you expect your patients to be perfect?” Drift asks, finally.

 

“Don’t be dense. Of course not.”

 

“Everyone you save - they’re going to make mistakes. Some of them are never going to be the same. And they’re all - none of them are exactly what they were made for, or who they used to be. It doesn’t mean they’re not worth saving.” Drift says. “Even if they never - even if they never go on and do anything - you wouldn’t regret saving them. You didn’t regret saving me.”

 

At last, Ratchet looks up at him. “Don’t try to be logical at me. It’s unsettling.”

 

“Would you prefer I told you that Primus has a plan for us all?”

 

Ratchet groans. “Well, at least it doesn’t sound like you’ve been replaced by a pod person.”

 

“A what?”

 

“Ask Swerve.” Ratchet says, “C’mon, let’s get this squared away, I need a drink.”

 

Drift grins. “Have you considered that meditation may be a better way to deal with your stress than - ?”

 

“Don’t push it.”

  



End file.
